inster was well astir, for Parliament ha
crown, and his cousin, Hen
, Henry of Lancaster, claim the realme of Englande and the crowne, as that I am dyscended by righte lyne of bloode from that good Lord King
ter that the Archbishop led Henry to the king's throne and set him thereon with great reverence, making to him a long "oryson" from
th done. By which reason it followyth that great inconvenyence must fall to that people a chylde is ruler and governour of. But now we ought all to rejoyse that a
their hands for joy and did homage to the new king, while the cor
account of that great day, whi
ay, the Duke left the Tower on his return to Westminster; he was bareheaded, and there were of nobility from eight to nine hundred horse in the procession. The Duke was dressed in a jacket of cloth of gold, mounted on a white courser, with a blue garter on his left leg. The same night the king bathed himself, and on the morrow confessed himself and heard three masses. The prelates and clergy who had assembled, then came in a large processio
ered with crimson cloth, and in the centre a royal throne of cloth of gold. When the Duke entered the ch
heir lord and sovereign, and then asked the people if they were consenting
to be consecrated. He was anointed in six places, and while this was doing
word of justice was drawn, blest, and delivered to the king, who put it into the scabbard. The crown of St. Edwar
d returned to the Palace, and went first to his
incipal citizens of London; at the fourth, the new created knights; at the fifth, all knights and
nother knight bearing his lance; he himself had his drawn sword in one hand and a naked dagger at his side. The knight presented the king with a written paper, the contents of which were
private apartments, and all the company went. Thus passed the Coronation Day of
n of Gaunt's elder brother, was alive, and this fact put him very much at the mercy of his Parliament throughout his reign. He was there by the will of Parliament, and theref
end of his reign, and he has left no memorial of himself in the
e to the sepulchre of the Lord at Jerusalem, and this in sp
et his Parliament and to pray in the shrine of Edward for the blessing and protection of that saint
ith difficulty they moved him to the fine chamber in the Abbot's house, carrying him on a litter through the
re he was, and when this had been told him, he
its name w
nowe I knowe I shall dye in this chamber, accordynge to ye
the two there had been many a misunderstanding and quarrel during the last few years; and Shakespeare, taking his facts from the French chronicler, tells how Henry lay there unconscious, his crown on a pillow
g king back to life, for he groaned,
to it, my son?" he
eld it by the right of your sword, it is my int
ave all things to God, and pray
saying
red and awestruck in the presence of Death, kneeling at his father's side as the prie
of the Lord Christ: I entreat you to worshi
p to receive the cup, blessed
ng of kings, praying for pardon, for peace, and for strength. "Then, when the shades of night had fallen upon the face of the earth, the tearful Prince in the darkness went to the Anchorite of Westminster (whose stone cell lay on the south side of the infirmary cloister), and unfolding to this perfect man the secrets of his life, being wash
trembled at the thought of lying near Richard's tomb in the Confessor's Chapel; and nothing disturbed the peace of the
ses should be said for his soul. Then he concerned himself with the building which had stood still throughout his father's reign, and he made as his chief architect the wealthy and generous Whittington
Henry laid claim to the throne of France and invaded the land, scorning all idea of compromise. Disease attacked his army, so that when he came face to face with his foe h
. If God give us the victory, it wi
t, the victory once again of the English archers. Henry had always b
hen shall
uch acts f
ngland b
h a Kin
, with the commonalty and an immense number of citizens, set out on foot to make their p
both spiritual and temporal, for all knew that thanksgiving was due unto God, and to Edward, the glorious Confess
ed and apparelled with precious cloths of arras, containing the victories and triumphs of the king of England, which was done to the int
hmen. Nor would Henry allow his battered helmet of gold and his other armour, "that in cruel battaille was so sore broken with the great strokes he hadde received," to be carried before him or shown to his people. With a fine modesty, he sought in no way to glorify himself. Th
ing eyes, and most engaging manners," and that he should succeed to the throne of France on the death of his father-in-law. In the February of 1421 he brought
to the pleasures of learning, "I will proceed to show you some p
queen, and the Countess Marshal on the left side, holding her napkin, while the Earl of Worcester rode about the hall on a great courser to keep room and order. Being Lent, no meat was allowed, excepting brawn served with mustard, but of fish there was a great choice; "pyke in herbage lamprey powderyd, codlyng, crabbys, so
this sig
t joy wi
all hi
ueen will
r
t is w
d can
marri
strifes
ow deeply in love with Lady Joanna Beaufort, a lady he had seen in the gardens of Windsor Castle, and at this banquet she p
s, and when besieging Meaux the news was brought that Katherine had given him a son. At the same time came a loving letter from the queen herself, begging that she might join him in France so soon as her health would permit. The permission was
oom left in the Confessor's Chapel, he directed that at its eastern end, where the relics were kept, a high place should be made, ascended on each side by steps, and that there should be raised an altar, while
restored to it a ring valued at a thousand marks, and given such valuable presents as a Psalter and other fine books; so the mo
leather and painted to look lifelike, clothed in purple with ermine, holding a sceptre, crowned and sandalled. The queen and King James of Scotland followed as chief mourners; a tho
; each householder stood at his door with a lighted torch; before the royal coffin rode the king's favourite knight and standard-bearer, Sir Louis Robsart, and many lords bore the banners of saints. Men at arms, in deep black and on black
ht unto the monastery of Westminster, and there at the feet of St.
watched, "Those pretty hands which could not yet feed himself, were made capable of wielding a sceptre, and he who beholden to his nurses for food, did distribute law and justice to the nation." By his Chancellor the infant king saluted, and to his people spoke his mind, by means of
y carried out. You will see it is a little chapel of itself at the east end of the Confessor's Chapel, standing so
V.'s
V.'s
its lacework tracery, its niches full of saints, its brilliancy of gold, of crimson, and of blue! You must look carefully at the carvings, which tell the story of
it; he hath more need of it than us." The sixth tells how Christ appeared to the king at the Holy Sacrament; the seventh and eighth describe the crowning of the king of Denmark and a quarrel between Harold and Tostig. The ninth and tenth go back to legend, the vision of the Seven Sleepers and the appearance of St. John as a pilgrim; while the twelfth and thirteenth de
b gates, and pick out the fleur-de-lis, the emblem of France, claimed by Henry as his inheritance. The figure of the king was the special gift of his widow, and was carved of the best Engl
certainly not the one which Henry kept hidden from all people at the Agincourt festiv
her queens, Eadgytha, the wife of Harold, and good Queen Maude, the wife of Henry I. Here, too, rest two tiny royal children, Margaret of York, the baby daughter of Edward IV., and her niece, Elizabeth Tudor, the three-year-old child of Henry VII. and Elizabeth. Their little marble tombs are plain and bear now no name. One other royal prince is buried here, Thomas of Woodstock, the uncle and for some
l weak and extravagant, and incapable of rising to his great responsibilities? Does the rugged, undecorated monument of Edward I. show you the man, strong, stern, and steadfast, or the tomb of his beloved Eleanor speak to you of his wonderful love for her and of her sweet goodness? And when you look at the resting-place of Edward III. and Philippa, does it not call up to your mind the days of chivalry and the feats of English soldiers, the victories of Poitiers and Crecy, the siege of Calais and the compassionate pleading of the kindly queen? You stand by the tomb of Richard and Anne, uni
al to all of us, when the men and women about whom we read and learn cease to be mere figures and become our familiar acquaintances, till we fit them in as it were to t